“Well, Hannah Montana. We have beach parties. We don’t dance. We do drink. And if you don’t like music, then you’re not welcome at our parties.”
I clenched my fist as I headed for the door, wanting desperately to go all Muhammad Ali on him even though he had me soaked to my core, but Mr. Salvatore held up his hand when I reached his desk.
I puffed out air as I frowned at Mr. Salvatore. “I know. My mouth. I talk too much. I have to pay attention. And if I don’t, you’ll send me packing.”
Pressing his lips into a thin line, he smoothed his fingers over his mustache. “I give students two chances. You’ve used one today.”
Yippee. I loved rules… not.
I saluted him like a sailor, thanks in part to a military dude who dated my mother. Oh yeah, I had a closet full of male stereotypes that I’d learned a habit or two from. That was how many men my mom had dated.
I dashed out and ran smack into Small Bladder Girl.
Her big brown eyes danced with excitement. “Hi. I’m Elvira. You’re new here.”
I nodded. “Well, Elvira, do you have to pee again?”
She was swaying back and forth as she held her backpack. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about your head. It looks like it hurts.”
“Nah. I’ll live.” My gaze traveled down the hallway as though imaginary hands had guided my head that way. Train was talking, or more like arguing, with Brad Pitt’s twin. Yum.
Elvira tracked my line of sight. “Which one? Train or my cousin, Austin?”
“Do all the boys in this school look like they belong in Hollywood?”
Elvira busted out laughing.
“I’m Montana, by the way, and don’t you dare make a reference to that Miley Cyrus show.”
She snorted. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I hate when people start singing that Elvira song. My mom loved the Oak Ridge Boys, so I’m stuck with the aftermath of her desires.”
It was my turn to snort. “My mom decided to name me after the state I was born in.”
“It seems we’ll get along just fine, then. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Austin, and you can call Train a dick again. Austin will love to hear that.”
“I’m not so sure Train will,” I said more to myself than to her.
When I skirted around a Gothic boy, I spied a blonde rushing up to Austin as though she was eager to talk to him. “Who’s the blonde who just walked up to Austin?”
“That’s Reagan. She was sitting in front of you in computer class. She has a thing for Austin.”
I didn’t recognize Mousy Girl. Then again, I’d had a front row seat to the back of her head.
“Train,” a deep male voice shouted from behind us.
I tossed a look over my shoulder and was met with a football soaring through the air with my name on it. Elvira grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the lockers just as a whirring noise clipped by my ear.
Jeez. This school was more dangerous than the halls of my last high school in New York.
Train caught the ball like an NFL player.
“Good thing he plays football,” Elvira muttered.
I touched my racing heart, letting out a deep breath. “Good thing you have quick reflexes.”
She giggled. “I couldn’t let you get hurt a second time.”
The bulky dude who had thrown the football sped past, and Elvira punched him in the arm. “Derek, you’re not supposed to throw in the halls.”
He glared down at her from his six-foot height. “I can do what I want. Besides, I was throwing the ball to my quarterback.”
I rolled my eyes upon learning that Train was a quarterback. I shouldn’t be stereotyping, but the girls at my last school had been all giddy over the quarterback, Deacon Shale. He didn’t have the drooling good looks Train had, but I would bet the girls in this school were gaga over the hunky football player. “Isn’t football reserved for the field?”
Derek raised a thick dark eyebrow. “You must be new in this school.”
Train stalked up with Austin, beaming at me. “Don’t pick on the new girl.”
I blushed. I never blush at a boy. I was mentally searching my body for the lust that should have been making me squeeze my thighs together rather than that mushy, swoony, heart-stopping feeling.
Austin’s brown gaze swept over my entire body. “Hey, cousin. Who’s your gorgeous friend?”
I mentally raised an eyebrow. No goose bumps, no butterflies, no lust with Austin, and he was gorgeous. Weird. Then my attention shifted to Train, whose gaze licked every part of my body. In my head, I broke out in hysterics as my damn skin tingled.
“This is Montana.” Train said my name with a heavier Southern drawl than before, and again, my body was leaning toward him, wanting him to read bedtime stories to me while his fingers did naughty things to my body.
Austin slapped his denim-covered leg. “Like Hannah Montana?”
The heat flushing through my body turned to a raging fire. I scratched my nose with my middle finger.
Austin lifted one white-blond eyebrow as Elvira swatted at him. “Leave my new friend alone.”
I could certainly handle my own battles, but I stuck out my chin a bit more, happy as my former cat when I’d scratched his ear that a person I barely knew had my back. Regardless, it was time for me to skedaddle. Bonding was great, but I wasn’t worried so much about Austin or anyone making the Hannah Montana reference as I was about Train and the urges I had to give him a sexual test-drive. I couldn’t risk any sip out of his fountain. With my luck, he would snag my heart and probably rip it out like Nikko had.
Just as I went to take a step, a loud bang tore through the hall, sounding as if a bomb had detonated. Chaos erupted. Girls screamed. Boys shouted. Doors slammed. Kids pushed one another. Teachers darted out of nearby classrooms, waving kids in. Like everyone else, I rushed to the nearest room, but I tripped over someone or something. I scurried to my feet only to be pushed down again by people running to get away. For fuck’s sake. I crawled in between people running in all directions, when a muscled arm, smelling like the ocean, wrapped around me, a hand clasping onto my boob. But I didn’t care where anyone touched me as long as I got out of harm’s way.
“In here,” Train said in my ear when I was upright.
Before I could protest or react, he was pushing me into the boys’ bathroom. As soon as we rushed in, the fire alarm trilled, jolting me back to life. Then a man’s voice blared from the overhead speakers in the hall. “This is not a drill. Head to the nearest exit in an orderly fashion.”
“Come on.” Train held out his hand. “It must be a fire.”
I hoped to hell it was just a fire and not some crazed kid who wanted to blow up the school. I slid my hand into his large, rugged, and protective one. When we emerged from the restroom, a faint smell of smoke made its way into my nostrils.
A sea of students paraded down the hall, their voices droning on as though nothing had happened. Then again, I shouldn’t have been freaking out. I attended a school in New York, where we’d had a few scares of students getting through security with guns and knives. One boy had even threatened a teacher with his gun.
“Something happened in the chemistry lab,” a girl in front of us said.
“You know the drill, people,” a deep male voice shouted ahead of us. “File out to the front lawn.”
I didn’t know the drill, and neither did my heart.
Students began to whisper. Others were texting and shuffling along with the group.
“Um, Montana.” Train’s syrupy Southern voice was medicine for my frayed nerves. “You don’t have to cut off my blood circulation. I kind of need my fingers to throw a football. Otherwise, Coach will have a coronary if I can’t play.”
“Aren’t you shitting your pants?” I asked.
“Not really. I’m a lifeguard. I can’t be scared when I’m saving lives.”
I let go of his hand. No one else seemed scared. So I shouldn’t be, either. “So a quarterback and a
lifeguard?” I wouldn’t mind seeing him in swim trunks.
“Do you have a problem with that?” He sounded hurt.
“I bet you get all the girls.”
He leaned in. “Jealous?”
“You’re not my type.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
He shook his head as we stepped out in the fresh humid air. I couldn’t tell what his reaction was. All I knew was my life wasn’t in danger… or maybe it was. Maybe Train would be the end of me.
Acknowledgments
I want to thank my fans, readers, bloggers, Indie Sage PR Company, and my dedicated ARC team. I’m humbled by all the reviews, messages, and your help in spreading the word about my books. Hugs and kisses to each and every one of you for taking the time to take this journey with me and sharing your excitement.
To everyone in Maxwell Mania, I love the crap out of you. Thank you for loving the series, and the Maxwell boys. Most of all, thank you for spreading the word. Your excitement means more than you know.
The team at Red Adept Editing is without a doubt the best editing team in the industry.
An enormous thank you to the talented Hang Le for her creativity and book cover design. You’re absolutely amazing.
To the gals in the wedding party, Jennifer, Peggy, and Heather: hugs and kisses.
A big shout out to the beta team— Kylie Sharp, Terri Schorr, and Heather Carver, much love and thanks for all your help.
Amy Korbel, Jennifer Lowe, and Heather Carver thank you for all your help and support in Maxwell Mania.
Kylie Sharp, where do I begin. You’ve talked me down off a few ledges, and I can’t thank you enough for being there for me not only in the book world, but in our personal lives as well. You and your family are near and dear to my heart. Bill and I love you guys.
Finally, to the man who stole my heart. I love you more than you know.
Dare to Breathe Page 16
